


Clint vs The Red Room

by WhyYesIamBlonde



Series: Clint whomping time [5]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Human Trafficking, Red Room (Marvel), Slave Clint Barton, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25241839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyYesIamBlonde/pseuds/WhyYesIamBlonde
Summary: For the prompt: Clint is kidnapped by a red room agent and made into Natasha's pet.
Series: Clint whomping time [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670698
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Clint vs The Red Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dssgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dssgirl/gifts).



The assassin looked through his scope. The mark was just getting out of his car. The archer took a deep breath then held. 1...2... perfect. The arrow arched through the air. The point of the tip dove into the man's neck and out the other side. He reached up struggling to breathe. Only then did Barton empty his lungs and go back to breathing normally. 

He was just about to put his bow away when he felt a blade along his neck. He never even heard her coming. 

"Stand up," the voice had no discernible accent. He placed his bow on the ground then stood up slowly putting his hands where she could see him. 

Shit, thought the young man. Did the guys who took out the contract rat him out?

"I have a gun aimed at your back. I'm taking the knife away but I won't hesitate to shot you. We are going to walk down the stairs and into the awaiting car." Clint could feel the knife leaving his neck. He wanted to turn around and stop her. The push of the gun into his ribs told him to do the opposite. 

At the bottom of the building there was a simple white car idling. The driver looked to make sure that both of them got into the car pointing her own gun at the agent. The kidnapper zip-tied his hands behind his back then put on his seat-belt. Only when the first woman was able to keep her gun pointed at Clint did the second one turn around and start to drive.

The agent tried to follow all of the twists and turns of the road but the area was unknown to him outside of the few miles for his mission. They drove for three hours without even stopping for gas. The gun aimed at him the whole time. 

Clint was completely lost. He knew nothing about Europe's terrain so the mountains gave him no clue as to where they were going. The circus was traveling the globe and he just decided that it would be a good time to make some extra money. Crap, would Carson just up and leave without him? Probably.

Finally the car entered what looked like a cave but then the end of it opened up to show a well lit garage. The huge steel door closed with almost no sound behind them. Clint was unbuckled and told to get out. The driver opened the door and he was grabbed by the driver. After helping him to his feet she continue to hold painfully onto his arm and lead him into an elevator. The original kidnapper following behind with the gun. 

No idea how many floors they went down but there was definitely a drop in his stomach and Clint tried to figure out what was gong on. They walked him down a brightly lit white hallway towards a set of double doors at the end. Two guards wearing black uniforms and a rad sash on their right arms opened the doors. The women almost growled as he was led past them.

The room was opulent. It was what you expected to see in a senators office, not the bottom of a bunker. The Lady who sat behind the desk was wearing a very well made red dress suit. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was perfect but that didn't hide the deep frown lines on her face.

One of his kidnappers cut the zip tie on his wrists and pushed him into a seat. He didn't know what to do so he just waited for now. After a few minutes the lady in charge stopped her notes and finally looked at him.

"Mr. Barton," Her voice had a rough edge to it like she was used to normally speaking in a Germanic language. "You are here to help us train our soldiers. You have the option of helping or serving. Either choice will bring us pleasure."

Clint's heart quickened at the smile she gave him. The two women who originally grabbed him then each grabbed an arm and pulled him from the room. He was moved to a different floor. 

There was a very large gym with females of various ages sparring and practicing gymnastics. He was walked though the room into another room. This one was a shooting range. He was given earphones in the preparation room and watched the girls in the other room through the window. 

The eleven girls couldn't have been more then twelve. Their aim and posture were perfect. Some had eye-patches forcing them to look with only their non-dominant eye. Others had arms tied behind their backs. The targets were slowly being obliterated. That also made him pause. The targets weren't bullseyes. They were picture of various world leaders. What the heck had he gotten himself into? 

The girls were told to stop, strip and clean their guns. They answered in perfect English. No accents that he could tell. No Southern, Yankee, Midwest... nothing. 

While the weapons were being taken care of Clint was shown to the armory. He was able to pick out a serious of different bows. There were a long series of arrows along the wall. He picked a few that were the correct length and fletching. They all had practice tips. 

When they went back into the shooting range it had been changed to archery. A rather large table sits with his chosen equipment. He is introduced simply as Teacher of Archery and is never given the girls names. 

Okay, this is even more unusual that he expected. Clint takes a second to actually think. What the F? Does he actually have to teach a bunch of little super soldiers...spies... who knows how to shoot a bow? Just why?

A quick look at the guards and he went through the basics. He explained each bow and when it is the best time to use them. Each arrow got the same treatment. He also explained the importance of length and string strength. 

A little blonde girl with blue eyes was bored. She was trying to pay attention but it was obvious that she thought this was a waste of time. A red headed girl next to her stepped on her foot to bring her focus back to the archer. The women in charge noticed this and grabbed the blonde's hair. She also grabbed the hair of the girl with the red. 

The class stopped as the two girls were dragged into the gym. They were thrown onto a mat and each handed a knife. "Katrina, I'm tired of your attitude. Since you two were more interested in each other than your lessons you can show me what you learned yesterday. "

Suddenly the girls crouched down making themselves smaller targets. They stood still for a while just assessing each other. The blonde lunged but the redhead didn't move until the last second. As the first girls knife broke her personal space the other girl sidestepped and threw up her right arm. The knife plunged into the blonde's throat. She fell down gurgling. Clint waited for someone to call a medic but the others just looked down at her with disdain. 

The archer pushed past everyone. He took off his shirt and tried to use it to staunch the bleeding. It didn't work. The weapon had done it's job too well. One of the teachers barked something in Russian and the girls returned to the shooting range including the redhead who didn't even bother wiping the blood off her arm. 

"Someone will pick up the trash later," the teacher said as she motioned for Clint to follow her back to the other room.

"You can't just do that!" Clint screamed at her. "She was a child. What did she do to deserve that?"

"You have a lesson to teach. I suggest you get moving."

"Or what? You'll kill me too?" Clint threw the bloody shirt at her.

"No," her eyes narrowed. "You either teach or serve. That is what you were told."

"I'm not going to teach a bunch of children how to not be human." Clint fold his arms over his chest.

"Pity," The lady motioned to the guards. "You would have been more useful as a teacher."

The girls were called back into the room. The guards forced Clint onto his knees. "Okay, ladies. Your class gets to teach your first pet. I suggest you do so with a firm hand. You have two weeks to show me you can do what is expected."

The assassin felt a wave of fear go through him as each girl gave him their full attention. 

________________________

Three days. Three days they left him alone in the darkness. The cage was too small to stand and too narrow to sit. He was stuck in a crouching position. Every limb fell asleep. Tightening and releasing the muscles did not help. He tried to relax by putting his body against the cage but it dug into his back and sides. Little to no sleep occurred during this time.

No food or water was brought to him. He was not taken out to relieve himself. His naked body shivered as they slowly turned down the heat. The lights were kept off with no windows. He only knew what time has passed because they told him later. It seemed like much much longer. Sometimes he could have sworn he heard voices but he never figured out if they were real or not. A rash formed where he could not clean himself after he just couldn't hold it in anymore. 

On the end of the third day the light was turned on. A bright spot light that was centered into his face. He was able to block the worst of it with his hands. The headache pounded through his skull. A quick burst of water came out of the dark hitting his mouth. It was barely enough to wet his lips. He tried to beg for more but merely a grunt was able to be heard.

A young voice could be heard, "Want more?" He nodded yes and tried to respond vocally but any sound coming from his throat felt like knives. 

The redhead came forward so that Clint could see her. She unlocked the cage and he fell out. His body refused to cooperate. A little bit more water was pored into his mouth. This time he was able to swallow a few gulps of it before it was taken away.

"You disgust me," Another girl came over and kicked him. They took turns giving him water and kicking him. He could move his limbs now but only to turn into a ball. The little shoes the girls wore were pointed high heels and they used them like they had been trained. The footed weapons covered him in bruises and soon his body was covered in heel punctures as well. 

At one time he tried to fight back. He jumped up and grabbed a brunette with very short hair. She just spun him around and threw him into the wall face first. Now a broken nose joined the other aches and pains from the last three days.

After he fell back onto the floor they told him that they were taking him back to the cage. He finally found his voice. He felt himself crying as he begged not to go back. The little girls dragged him towards his personal hell. He scrambled against the concrete, which was slick with his blood, kicking and screaming as they got closer and closer. Right before they were going to push him the rest of the way they all let go.

"What are you willing to do?" The brunette with the longest hair demanded.

Clint looked up at her face with desperation. "Anything."

_________________

The dorm room was built for a much larger group. There were twenty-six beds for the ten girls. The pet was not allowed on any of them. He was given a blanket if he was really good but that rarely happened. The stone in the corner was his place. 

Every morning they let him shower with actual soap even if the water was pretty cold. It's the same temperature they have to use. He's careful to get a good drink then because it can be a while before he's fed. The girls left him to clean the room. He was careful to make sure the laundry wasn't mixed up. After cleaning the bathroom and the dorm room floor he sat himself into the reserved position leaning his naked butt against his ankles with his hands on his knees palms up and his head down. 

After an hour or so the ladies were done with morning warm ups and came back for their turn to clean up. Then he followed them to the cafeteria. There he could see other groups of females of various ages. It wasn't unusual for them to have a naked male trailing after them. 

Clint stayed standing with his back against the wall. The ladies helped themselves through the food lines. When they got to their assigned table they ate in silence only talking when they were going over an exercise to see how they could improve. 

Once the girls were done Clint got to go around and pick up all the plates. He walked steadily towards the dish room making sure to lick the plates clean as fast as he could. Today he must have made them happy because some of the plates had two or three bites left on them. 

They went straight to the war room. As the ladies sat around the table waiting for their commander Clint went around making sure that each person had a folder, pen and water bottle. Then he settled under the table. 

The girls with the red hair snapped her fingers to in between her legs. Clint crawled over and sat there as she petted him. Clint has heard the other girls call her Natalia but honestly wasn't sure if this was her real name. She was the nicest to him when he was good and the fiercest when it came to punishments. His back still twinged with the whipping he had earned a few weeks ago.

There was a heavy discussion above him. They were being sent on a mission. As much as he tried not to pay attention he couldn't help hearing everything. There was an Italian mob boss who was trying to infringe onto Russian territory in New York. The girls were supposed to be sold to this group and take down the trafficker from the inside. 

Some of them thought that being caught would work better than being sold. Others thought that would take too long. They all agreed that they needed a way to keep this from getting tracked back to the motherland. The fragile peace that the various mobs had in the States needed to stay until the Red Room could get the Black Widows up to full training to take over. 

The argument was getting louder. Clint grimaced as his hair was pulled and he was pushed away so that Natalia could yell at a blonde named Yelena. "Of course there is a way to get in without them knowing who we are."

"If we get sold as a lot who will do the selling? The Irish? They hate us as much as the Italians and give us away in a heartbeat." The higher voice protested.

The bickering went back and forth. The lady at the head of the table smirked as the discussion became more and more heated. After each girl had a chance to chime in she raised her hand. Immediately all yelling stopped and the girls went back to their chairs. "There is another way."

At the sound of a finger snap Clint crawled his way to the head of the table. The lady in the leader's uniform demanded that he stand up. He quickly got to his feet and took the at-ease position. 

"Pet, you have contacts with human traffickers." It was a statement not a question.

Clint simply nodded. She told the girls about her plan to use him to get them into position. He listened closely to his part of the mission.

____________________________

The clothes felt uncomfortable after so many months without them. It took a while but he finally convinced his contacts that he had access to a group of girls whose parents had sold them to him. It was a simple matter of shipping the girls over on a private ship that he pretended to have bribed the crew to allow passage. In reality, it was owned by the Red Room and there were luxurious accommodations below deck. The actually travel was a mini vacation for the ladies. They spent their free time actually relaxing in between exercises. Clint spent that time serving them, rubbing down their arms and backs and making sure their every whim was attended to.

Once they got to the harbor the supposed slaves got into the shipping container they pretended to have spent the journey in. They added enough dirt and human waste to make it believable. The tears were so real that the pet actually felt bad for them.

The container was placed onto a truck after the money exchanged hands. Clint was supposed to return to Europe and give the money to his superiors. Instead, as soon as the ship he was on started back he dove overboard. He was careful to leave before the ship picked up speed. There was a deck low enough that he wasn't hurt on hitting the water and he was careful to swim deep before he went for land. The bullets that went after him didn't go down far or fast enough to get him.

His lungs were burning before he broke the surface. He gasped for air a while then swam the rest of the way to the docks. He was able to find a place to pull himself out of the water. There were concerned dock workers who he had to ensure that he was fine and didn't need his ship contacted. 

He dried off as he walked. The money from the transaction sitting comfortable in the inside pocket of the jacket he decided to keep. It had made swimming harder but would be helpful to hold his things in the near term. 

He knew that he now probably had a target on his head but after taking out a few marks he had already gotten used to that feeling. The freedom was worth it. With nowhere else to go he decided to maybe take up that pencil pushers offer of a job.


End file.
